


places that are no longer home (purple houses)

by ElasticElla



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Infidelity, Minor Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 06:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20466344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Clint never thought he’d be that guy. A walking stereotype of a midlife crisis; wasn’t being a superhero supposed to stop that? (He can’t even think the title without a grimace.)





	places that are no longer home (purple houses)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [K_Popsicle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Popsicle/gifts).

Clint never thought he’d be that guy. A walking stereotype of a midlife crisis; wasn’t being a superhero supposed to stop that? (He can’t even think the title without a grimace.) Losing his wife and kids destroyed him, how many times did he imagine everything being snapped back to normal? How relieved was he to get that call from Laura? (Still, he shouldn’t have let go of Nat. Will never not regret it.)

But Laura doesn’t know. Doesn’t know so many things, and how could he be so cruel as to tell her about the blood-soaked years she was gone? That he’s a stranger wearing a familiar skin, masquerading as her husband. 

So he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t tell her lots of things these days. As if kept in the dark she’ll stay preserved, the exact woman he ached for, all alone up on that pedestal. (The kids, they don't see it yet. But god, one day they'll hate him. That should be enough to make him stop- but it isn't.)

Wanda’s breathing changes, eyes fluttering as she wakes, nails lightly scratching against his chest as she stretches. She’s too young, too beautiful for him. But she’s broken too, and misery loves a mistress. 

“You’re a loud bastard in the morning Barton,” Wanda grumbles. 

He focuses on slow breaths, trying to quiet his mind, pressing his hand to her lower back in apology. 

She hums, arcs against him in a way that already has his dick twitching. She’s going to be the death of him. (How mercifully sweet, more than he deserves.)

“Mmm, regret, nostalgia, despair, shame, horniness from me. Thinking of the dear wife again?” 

“Shut up,” he says, thumbs pressing into her back. Wanda’s such a bitch sometimes. (At least it’s only feelings, she does stay out of his thoughts.)

She grins, cracked and wide. “Ah, Nat too.”

“Wanda-” 

“I’ll be good,” she interrupts, and they both know it’s a half-truth as she sits up, the sheet falling away. She doesn’t seem real like this- naked perched in his lap, breasts too perfect, lips too cruel. They fuck hard and fast, any moment a call could come in. The next round will be drawn out to the edge of torture- and if there's some catastrophe, it will be. And he'll be not distracted, but acutely aware of his dick for the entire crisis, scheming how to get Wanda away from the others and to a hidden rooftop. 

Wanda grinds her hips down, deeper, ecstasy splashing behind his eyelids. He pries his eyes back open as she rides out the aftershocks, hair falling in her face and a victorious grin on her lips. She looks like, she _is_, his darkest and most coveted fantasy. 

.

Before the Snap- BS and isn’t it really- Clint had picked out their forever home. As much as he loves the ranch, it’s begun to feel cramped with the three kids running around. The kitchen alone is a disaster zone, needs to be at least twice as big. 

Two towns over he found a large purple house for sale. On just as many acres, with a barn, and best of all- enough room for the three to run around the house without causing accidents. It even had a pool for Nate Pietro, an archery range for Lila, and a garden for Cooper. Two decades newer than their current house, there wouldn’t be any need for more house projects, Laura would like that. There was just convincing the government to shift his house arrest, and he was confident with his odds. (Ready to call in old favors.)

And then there was the Snap, and the dream turned to dust.

.

Wanda’s mumbling in Serbian, must be dreaming about her brother again. She wakes suddenly, eyes red, and Clint is careful not to move. 

“You’re safe. You’re not there anymore, easy babe. You’re here.” 

A red flame flickers over her fingers momentarily, his heartbeat quickening, and then is extinguished with her eyes. 

“Fuck,” she murmurs, hiding her face in his chest. “It felt- it felt so real.” 

And Clint can relate all too well, still wakes up positive Nat is alive. He lets the grief back in, they can weather it together. 

(If Clint wanted to be honest with himself: these are the moments it truly feels like he’s cheating on his wife. These are the moments he can’t do without.)


End file.
